


Wild Wild West

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: "Sir, I'd like to request a leave of absence for myself and Agent Mulder."





	1. Chapter 1

Waiting in line, she never let him out of her sight. Mulder sat on a bench, folded in on himself, one elbow resting on knee, fingers laced through hair, as if he was nursing a migraine. He wasn't injured this time though, this was pain of another kind, one that build up for weeks, case after dead-end case, murder after murder. She herself was tired, of examining corpses of young girls, of chasing down leads, of living on doughnuts and bad coffee.  
Moving with line, Scully looked up and out, through the great panoramic windows of the terminal, and off to the skies beyond. The day was actually quite beautiful, she never noticed that before, June caught her in a car. Someone at the police station, said something about a heatwave heading north. Her mind wandered when a flurry of motion drew her eye back to Mulder.  
A little girl in a pink tutu, was pirouetting through the narrow aisle in the waiting area, a young woman got up, following to rein her in. The girl tripped, tipped and fell, straight into Mulder's side. His reflexes took over, hands sprang up, caught slim arms. The startled ballerina froze, little hands covering her mouth, anxious mother close at her side, then, a miracle happened. Mulder smiled, gently letting go of the girl, speaking few words that made her curtsey and blush. The mother slowed, resting a protective hand on her daughters' shoulder, obviously apologising, to which, he shook his head, back to the girl, ruffling her short, blonde hair.  
Those were first smiles Scully saw on his face in days, and an idea lit up her face. She took out her phone and dialled Skinners office, looking at the departures board while waiting for Kimberly to pick up and connect her call. AD Skinner picked up in his usual brisk manner.  
"What is it Agent Scully?"  
"Sir, I'd like to request a leave of absence for myself and Agent Mulder." She said without preamble, and that gave him pause.  
"Was anyone injured? I thought you already closed the case."  
"Yes, we did, and we're fine," she hesitated, feeling blush creep up her neck. "But it is something of a health issue, sir."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I'm concerned about Agent Mulder."  
"As his partner or his doctor?"  
"Both." Skinner sighed and the change in tone made her relax.  
"How long do you need?"  
"Five days," she said, looking back to the bench and Mulder, shade of himself, if only a little less tense. "No, seven." She amended.  
"Make it two weeks," Skinner said finally, "I already read your preliminary report, good job agents, considering."  
"Yes, considering." She sighed rubbing the bridge of her nose, then shook off the feeling, back to business. "Thank you sir."  
"Just stay out of trouble."  
"Yes sir, we will, sir." Scully said, and before she hung up the phone, she could have sworn she heard a chuckle.

"Adjoining seats," she said, handing him his ticket. "And we need to go."  
Mulder took the pass and put it in his pocket, without as much as a glance. He got up and threw his bag over his shoulder, following her and her rolling suitcase, as if on autopilot. It took good five minute walk for him to realise, they were heading to a different gate than.  
"Where are we going?"  
"Change of plans."  
"Did Skinner call you?" His tone was becoming annoyed. "What is it this time? Senator's assistant turned into a vampire? Werewolves in the mid-west? Wait, that could actually be fun, all things considered. Tell me it's werewolves."  
She didn't stop, though she smiled a little.  
"Scully," he sighed. Hint of warning mixed with exasperation, and a hand caught her wrist, making her stop and turn to face him.  
"When was the last time you went on a vacation?" She challenged.  
"1996?" He hedged.  
"That Graceland thing?" Mulder nodded, not really keen on revisiting the memory. "That hardly qualifies, since you kept calling me all the time."  
"You want to go on a vacation? Just like that? No plan, no reservation?" His eyes grew wider with her every nod.  
"I," he pursed his lips, arms folded over his chest, "we can’t just pick up and leave, what about work, reports, Skinner will be furious."  
"I already talked to Skinner."  
"You did? When?"  
"Earlier." The idea began to turn sour, but she didn't back off. She squared her shoulders and looked up, meeting his gaze. "Mulder, I need a break, and if you really don't want to, I can go alone. You can go back to D.C. and do whatever you want, but let me be clear, my phone will be off."  
That said, she turned on her heel and started walking, suitcase in hand, lump in her throat.  
"Scully, wait." She heard him follow, curiosity getting the best of him. "At least tell me where we're going."  
Smiling, Scully picked up the pace.  
"West," she said, once he caught up to her, "we're going west."


	2. Chapter 2

They were so used to leaving in a hurry, that it wasn't an issue anymore. Only problem was, that she didn't pack any real holiday clothes.  
"We need to do some shopping." She said, walking through the parking lot.  
"What for?"  
"I don't know about you, but I." She began, but a heavy sigh cut her off mid-sentence.  
"Will you stop saying that?" Mulder said, slightly annoyed.  
"What?"  
"That 'but I' thing, I'm here too, with you." Scully glanced over her shoulder, expecting a scowl, but found a smile instead. “Just say what you wanna say."  
"I need clothes."  
"Okay," he grinned wider, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing, which it was, really. "We'll go get some clothes."  
"Nothing fancy." She said, trying to stop the chagrin from spreading.  
"Of course not."  
"Some t-shirts, pair of shorts."  
"Whatever you need."  
"And you?"  
"What about me?"  
"You're not spending two weeks in this suit."  
She turned again and saw Mulder looking at himself, dumbfounded.  
"Mulder!"  
"What's wrong with my suit?"  
"You look like a…"  
He arched one eyebrow in challenge. "Like what?"  
"Like an FBI agent!" She said and they both laughed.  
"I get that a lot." Mulder said.  
"I couldn't help myself," she hiccuped, "sorry."  
They found their rental car and Scully popped the trunk.  
"Was that a subtle hint I should change my style, Agent Scully?"  
"Maybe," she smiled, letting him handle her bag. "For the next two weeks at least."  
"I didn't know I'd be vacationing with the fashion police." Mulder said and slammed the lid, turning to her, hand reached out, palm up. "You wasted your chance to boss me on picking the car. I'm driving."  
"You wish," she grinned, taking a step back, hiding the keys behind her back.  
"Should I remind you of the statistics?"  
"Only if you wanna walk."  
Scully pushed a button on the small remote and the roof of their navy blue convertible, folded neatly into a small compartment, hidden behind the back seat.  
"Get in the car g-man." She said, and he noticed her smile grow three sizes.

They didn't exactly follow each other around the store, but Mulder kept a close eye at Scully, her head surfacing in strange places, as if she was diving.  
He picked light cargo pants, pair of grey sneakers, couple of 2-dollar t-shirts, nothing fancy as promised, and went to find her, since she went under again. 

Thumbing through rows of hangers, Scully tried to turn the volume down on her inner critic. If she had time, she wouldn't shop at Target at all, she would look and try on and compare, visiting at least four stores in the process. Not because she was picky, she simply liked to have options. This felt like hit and run, if the colour caught her eye and she found her size, it landed in the cart, t-shirts, shorts, flip-flops. Only thing that made her pause was the dress. She wanted something simple, something she could throw over herself and be ready to go. She scanned through the rack, crossing out one model after another; too long, too short, neckline too high, too… lace. The lace made her pause. She found her size and looked at the dress closer. Chantilly lace it was not, but it made her smile, and made her other choice easier.  
Ten minutes later Mulder's voice found her, while she was examining herself in the dressing room mirror. By reflex, she caught the dress to cover herself up, but then the absurdity of the gesture washed through her, making her chuckle.  
"Have you seen a slim redhead come in here?" He asked someone, sounding closer.  
A young, female voice replied, sugary sweet. "Sorry, no, but maybe I can help you with something?"  
"No, thanks." Mulder said cooly, just outside. "I'm with someone."  
"In here!" Scully called out, sticking one hand above the door.  
The girl looking at her from the mirror blushed, all the way from her cheeks to the edge off the bikini top, then she smiled, slowly letting the dress drop.  
A light thump bounced the door and his voice came even closer, little over her shoulder.  
"You okay in there?"  
"Mhmm."  
Scully glanced at herself, practically naked, and tried to imagine him seeing her through the mirror. Cancer took the few extra pounds, but she looked healthy again, slim but toned, if a little pale. She liked what she saw, and oddly enough, she liked the thought of him, watching her.  
"I think I've got everything so," he said, pausing before he teased quietly, "need any help?"  
"I'm good, thanks." She chuckled, decision made, and tugged at the string that kept the bikini top around her neck. "You could find us beach towels thought."  
"Okay," Mulder chuckled, "any colour preference?"  
"Surprise me." 

Mulder left the changing area with a goofy grin on his face, thinking how his life could turn in one day. That morning he woke up thinking what's next, and not twelve hours later, he was on vacation. A vacation with Scully no less. Not wondering what she was doing, whom she was meeting, what she was wearing, what she was thinking, because the few times they tried that, it almost drove him crazy.  
Last time she went away on a holiday, she hugged him goodbye and wrote him letters, which kept him sane as he worked a vicious murder case and the last one, a polaroid of her smiling against the sunset, still sat in his wallet, along with the words, _'wish you were here'._ (*)  
The towels weren't that hard to find and as he looked for the largest ones, an image of her flashed through his mind, stretched out on blue cotton, water on her skin, glistening in the sun.  
They were really doing this! Somewhere out there, she was trying on swimwear, giving him two weeks off her time, out of her own free will. It's been ages since he shared a vacation with anyone; semi-regular quarantine stays didn't count. He had trouble remembering the last time he swam in the ocean, not to mention sunbathed, he preferred hiking to lying idly in the sand, but who said they couldn't do both. Hike and sunbathe that is, not quarantine and vacation. He will not ruin this trip by getting them into some kind of mess, he owed that much to Scully, if nothing else.  
Strolling through rows off summer clothes, a simple hat caught Mulders' eye, pale straw trimmed with a deep green ribbon. _Sun and sand and Scully in a straw hat,_ he thought smiling to himself again. It was his duty to protect her, and a brim like that, would provide plenty of shade. Who knows, maybe she'd let him hide in it as well. 

He found her at the pharmacy, patiently watching a young clerk ring up an impressive pile of medical supplies.  
"What's all this?" Mulder asked, hand on the small of her back. "You plan on opening an emergency ward?"  
"With you in tow, I just might." Scully said and turned to the clerk, remembering something else. "You have steri strips?"  
Mulder sighed and with a hand on her shoulder, made her turn around, then took her face in his hands and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. She definitely needed a break.  
"Scully," he said quietly, resting his forehead against hers, "I know you think I'll run off and do something stupid, but trust me, all we need is sunscreen." He let go and turned to the clerk, embarrassed by his shameless display of affection. "What's the best one you have? Something that could withstand a nuclear blast."  
"We have this," the girl reached for a simple, white box, "for very sensitive skin, UVA and UVB, SPF120, and it's waterproof."  
"We'll take it," Mulder smiled and took out his wallet. "The rest of it, too."  
"And the steri strips?" She asked Scully, making her look away from Mulder, equally embarrassed.  
"Yes, please." She said.  
"Better safe than sorry." Mulder shrugged smiling at the girl. 

The sunset caught them driving along the waterfront, with wind tugging at Scully's hair, blowing like a red flame. It was hard for Mulder to take his eyes off her, but he did, just in time to see a narrow parking lot cutting into the beach. He gently taped her side with the back of his hand and she looked away from the road, following his nod and pulled over.  
"What a view," she said when they got out, leaning shoulder to shoulder, against the car.  
Sun fell slowly into the ocean, painting the sky purple and orange, kissing her skin with blushing peach, softening the lines, elongating shadows for them so that they could hide. She lost the jacket and her hair was a mess, but she never looked more beautiful.  
"One for the books," he said, putting his arm around her, finally sparing a glance for mother nature.  
With Scully's arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder, they watched the sunset in comfortable silence. Their motel was less than five miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) see ["A Dying Art"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989650/chapters/27123906)


	3. Chapter 3

Mulder was shaving when a soft knock on the connecting doors sounded over the local news and soon, Scully stood leaning on the bathroom doorframe.  
“Hey,” she said smiling, arms folded over her chest. The v-neck t-shirt she wore did interesting things when she breathed in. They should have discussed the two room situation earlier, because it was only their first night and already Mulder was starting to regret it.  
"Sleep well?" He asked, turning back to the mirror, before she caught him staring.  
"I guess," she said with another distracting sigh, “it's weird to wake up without any plans."  
"We can make some, if it helps," he chuckled rinsing the razor, "6:30, morning workout, 7:30 showers; 8:15 breakfast."  
Scully glanced at her watch and said, "It's 9:30."  
"Damn, good thing no one’s watching."  
"We'll do better next time," she said, handing him the towel. "But seriously, you did all that?"  
"Not breakfast," he said, wiping his face, "thought I'd let you sleep in."  
"Thanks."  
"I found a diner though, you hungry?"  
"Starving."  
"Not on my watch." He said, smiling and went around her to find a t-shirt. 

The diner was quite busy, but they managed to find a booth and were waiting for their order. All rituals were observed, from Scully's remarks about his cholesterol intake, his teasing about her missing some crucial pleasures in life, all the way to the waitress fluttering her eyelashes at Mulder and being completely ignored, because he managed to goad Scully into ordering pancakes. He sipped coffee, leaning back and looking around the place.  
Just another coastal diner, with fishing nets and trophies for decor, and fish in the breakfast menu. It felt almost like home, his childhood.  
"What is it?" Scully said, and he shook the thought off, taking another sip from his mug.  
"Nothing, good coffee."  
She wasn't fooled though, leaning on the table, bringing him back to here and now, radiating concern.  
"Is it the case?"  
"No," he said, "I was thinking about the Vineyard."  
She relaxed, resting her chin on the heel of her hand. "What was it like?"  
"Something like this, though back then, I didn't pay attention to tourists."  
"Dad used to take us out for breakfast on Saturdays to a place like this, when he was home."  
"We had Sunday lunches, at a restaurant with white cloth napkins and manners, but there was a diner too when I got older, very much like this one."  
"Milkshakes with your first girlfriend?"  
Mulder laughed, surprised, "what makes you think that?"  
"Wild guess," she laughed with him, blushing slightly.  
"Or projection, admit it," he leaned on the table, moving closer, "your first date was in a place like this."  
"Well, sure, which can be said about most kids who grew up in the 70's."  
"You held hands drinking a milkshake from one glass," he prowled on, ignoring her, "two cherries sitting on top of mountain of whipped cream."  
Scully laughed, just as the waitress came with their breakfast, and Mulder finally looked up at her, his smile brilliant.  
"We'll have a milkshake as well."  
The girl beamed back. "One?"  
"Yes, two straws."  
"Mulder!" Scully faked outrage, but the girl nodded and went away, smile fading fast.  
"You broke her heart," she said, picking a strawberry from the fruit salad.  
He looked up puzzled, and Scully jerked her chin after the waitress.  
"Eat your pancakes," he sighed and went back to buttering his toast.

They took the long way back to the motel, picking up snacks for the beach and looking around. They passed an ice cream parlour, couple of gift shops, a pharmacy, liquor store, all within walking distance from their motel, a two story building with a view. Their rooms on the upper floor looked out at the ocean, practically on the other side of the road.  
Mulder, knocked gently on the connecting doors and when Scully said "come in," he pushed them open, peeking inside.  
"Ready to go?" He asked and paused.  
She was standing by the bed, facing away from the door, fixing the hat in the mirror. The dress she wore was held up by thin straps, its' back cut low to show off pale skin and slender shoulders, before it fell gently over her curves and ended and inch above her knees. Emerald green tropical leaves wound around her bod and the skirt flared when she turned to face him. The front was a deep V, trimmed with black lace.  
"Mulder?" She said and stepped closer, smile in her voice.  
It took him a second to realise his mouth was hanging open, then another to gather his thoughts because he noticed the sandals laced around her ankles.  
"You look," he paused searching for the right word, none of them good enough, "great."  
"It's the hat," she grinned, touching the brim, "thanks."  
"Anytime," he said, taking a deep breath and leaned on the doorframe to watch her gather her things. "I don't think I ever saw you this casual."  
Scully laughed. "Get used to it, because I'm not wearing anything else till we're back in D.C."  
"I can live with that, but I liked the shorts too, don't forget about those."  
She chuckled, giving him the eyebrow. "You really are spooky, noticing everything."  
"Photographic memory," _and thank God for it._ "You done?"  
"Yes, let's go."  
He took the bag from her, for once without protest, and with hand on the small of her back led her through the door. The dress and the straps holding up her bikini top matched. 

The short walk was enough to get his head straight enough to take in the view. The ocean was calm. Small waves washed over the shore, cool breeze tickled their skin and white sand stretched out before them, and for the first time in years he felt home again.  
Scully caught up to him, and when hand sneaked under his arm he glanced down. Her eyes were closed and she took a deep breath, shoes dangling in one hand. The sand was fine and cool and her touch was warm and soft.  
"Don't you just love that?" She said, meeting his eyes, and he gave up trying to be eloquent.  
"Yeah."  
"C'mon, let's find a place, you want to go left or right?"  
"Right," he said, still dazed and she laughed.  
"Okay," Scully said and went ahead, then added, "I thought it would be more crowded."  
"Maybe everybody's still sleeping."  
"I hope not, I like it this way."  
He let her lead and pick a spot, watching as fought the sand, yielding under her small feet for some good 100 yards and once they left the first wave of tourists behind, she turned and stopped.  
"Here," she declared, dropping her shoes as if planting her flag. Close to water, away from people, with the cover of a grassy dune behind.  
"Perfect."  
They began unpacking and Mulder was spreading towels on the sand when a hat landed on his head.  
"Hold this for me," she said and when he looked up, Scully was pulling the dress up and away.  
The bikini did match the colour of the dress and she looked even better than he imagined. Flaring hips, slim waist, toned stomach, perfect breasts, red hair on fire bobbing around her face. If his mind was in the gutter, the gutter was Louvre and she was Venus heading back into the ocean.  
"I'll be right back!" She said cheerfully and walked away, taking her gorgeous legs and back and ass, her perfect everything, leaving him sitting there with his heart pounding.  
Two days ago they were poking around minds of killers and now he was sitting on the sand, and she was waist deep in water. His best friend, who knew him through and through, his every quirk, every stupid joke, every wound, nightmare and fear. Beautiful beyond wildest dreams, wearing a hat he bought her, and a smile he put on her face. He was in love.

Ten minutes later, when he stripped and found the suntan lotion, she was back.  
"It's heavenly." She said, picking up a towel to dry herself. "You should go in too."  
"In a minute, could you?" He said, holding up the tube and turning away.  
"Sure." She crawled over to his towel and touched his back, making him cringe away.  
"Cold!"  
"Sorry."  
The cold hand vanished for a second then came back, sliding over his shoulders.  
"I couldn't resist it," she said, gently rubbing the lotion in, "I can't remember when was the last time I swam in the ocean."  
"Neither do I," he said, closing his eyes as she moved down. "I guess we are workaholics."  
"No, we're not. Now turn around."  
He did, and she was sitting on her heels, hat on her head, squirting a little drop of something white on her finger. Then she took his chin in one hand and started spreading the lotion over his nose and cheek bones.  
"Why don't you have a hat?" She admonished, her eyes crossed adorably.  
"I do, it's in the bag somewhere."  
"Well, it should be on your head."  
"Yes ma'am." He smiled and she was done.  
"There, you're good to go. Do my back for me?"  
"I thought you'll never ask."  
She turned and found her sunglasses, then leaned forward, knees drawn up, toes digging in sand. The slope of shoulders and curve of her back was broken only by the green spaghetti straps of the bikini top.  
"You're staring again," she said with a smile.  
"Am not," he said, totally busted, "where's that nuclear grade stuff."  
"On your face, I want to catch a little tan."  
"What about freckles?"  
"What about them?"  
"Nothing?"  
"You don't like freckles?" She teased.  
"I love freckles," _on you especially._  
"Good," she said and he shut up.  
He rubbed the lotion over her skin, feeling it warm up.  
"I stopped fighting them when I turned eighteen," she said, "I just don't want to get burned." Then aded after a beat, "you probably never had that problem, you always look so healthy."  
"Thanks," he chuckled and handed her the bottle. "Done."  
"Thanks," she said, but he was already up, heading for the water, and the beach equivalent of a cold shower.


End file.
